An End And A Beginning
by srtr19
Summary: This story will follow Harry as he steps into his next life with the memories of his old one just within his reach. Between making new friends and reminiscing the past, he will discover how much one can change when going through life a second time. Warning: Will contain slash.
1. Prologue

**Summary: This story will follow Harry as he steps into his next life with the memories of his old one just within his reach. Between making new friends and reminiscing the past, he will discover how much one can change when going through life a second time. Warning: Will contain slash.**

 _An end and a beginning._

Harry smiled as he took in the sight of his three beautiful children, now grown to be respectful individuals that filled him with pride each and every day of his life.

James, his oldest, now father of four and grandfather of seven and counting, had been the first to bring a light in his very being that had managed to partially heal the wounds that the war and his troubled youth had inflicted on him.

He remembered it as if it was yesterday, holding him in his arms for the first time, feeling his heart expanding in order to contain the parental love surging through him.

He remembered how much trouble he had given to Ginny and him as a teenager. She would worry so much about her firstborn, because he was too carefree, too reckless, and not nearly responsible enough to make the right choice most of the time.

When he had graduated Hogwarts (to Ginny's great relief) they had expected him to join uncle George's expanding chain of joke shops as his second hand. And George had been ready and happy to welcome his favorite nephew with open arms, considering how close the two were.

James, however, had decided instead to pull off a disappearing act for a year, during which they received many postcards from all over the world.

He came back the same cheeky boy he had been, but somehow a little more mature. To everyone's shock, and aunt Hermione's immense satisfaction, he had enrolled in wizarding law school, managed to finish his curriculum a year in advance, and proceeded to become not only one of the best experts in creature law, but also the main advocate that pushed for creature equality rights until they were achieved.

To everyone's shock, but not Harry's. He knew his boy's heart better than anyone else.

Moving his gaze to his second son, _Ginny's boy,_ he thought with an amused smile, he could not help the wave of tenderness that engulfed him, as it always did, when taking in those eyes.

Albus was his spitting image and, truth be told, even their personalities were so similar that Harry sometimes had had trouble seeing him like the child he had been back in the days.

He had loved Albus just as dearly as he had loved James, but he had not been the same kind of father to them. With Albus, curious and wise beyond his years since before he even got his Hogwarts letter, Harry had always been straightforward and had never sugarcoated anything. He liked to think that that had been what Albus had needed from him.

He had been Ginny's weakness, her sweet boy that reminded her so much of Harry, the man she loved. She had tried her best to spoil him rotten and still to this day Harry was surprised how that had not caused his son to become like a Dudley Jr.

Albus had been instead, in a very unique way, their family's pillar. He had been the one James had kept in touch with while away Merlin knows where, the one by Harry's and his siblings' side with the right words and the right silence when they all went through the grief of Ginny's passing, the one to help Lily out when she went through her divorce, the one to who each of them looked up to whenever times were particularly tough or quite happy.

Albus had not married, saying it just wasn't for him. Harry knew better than to believe him, but couldn't do much more than silently empathize with his son's heartbreak that had followed the Malfoy heir's wedding to Rose.

Albus insisted his job as a mind healer was highly satisfying and fulfilling and all that he needed in his life to feel complete. Harry knew that he had repeated it enough times to himself for it to have eventually become true.

Finally, he looked at his Lily, whom he had continued to call little princess up to this day, that she had her own little princess, who in turn had her own little princess. James would always joke about his sister being so vain that she had decided to produce clone after clone of herself, to which Lily would laugh wholeheartedly and say that it had actually started with mom and she was but a mere clone herself of the original perfection.

Ginny had not lived to meet the niece that resembled her so much, even more so then her daughter, who other then appearance had had little in common with her. Where Ginny had been hot headed and decisive, Lily had always been quiet, almost shy, and in a world that was out of the reality everyone else seemed to experience.

Lily was a writer in the muggle world. She loved magic dearly and had gone through her Hogwarts years smoothly, easily achieving excellent results. However, her career of choice had happened to be unrelated to magic. Harry had heard her confess to Albus once that she enjoyed writing novels for muggles because she liked the idea of delivering some truth about magic to them in the form of her stories.

Her husband had had trouble understanding her, regardless of how much love there had been between them, so in the end it hadn't worked between them and they had decided to part as friends rather then push themselves to the point where they would've ended up hating each other. Her daughter, Helen, at that point, had become her life and the special bond between the two was nothing short of extraordinary.

Helen was a professional seeker, to her grandpa's immense pride, and had just recently sent her own little princess to her first year at Hogwarts.

Harry was most proud of Lily, out of his three children, because she possessed an inner strength like no one he had ever known.

With a last sigh, he took the sight of them in one more time, their aged faces and teary eyes, before closing his own, ready to greet Death like an old friend, after a life fully lived.

He found himself weightless and senseless, yet still conscious of his own existence. _This doesn't feel so bad_ , he thought to himself, before giving out a mental sigh, _I see how it could become boring soon though_.

While wondering how long this state of things would last, he started to perceive a beam of light in the distance. Just as he was about to will himself to somehow make for the light, his view of it was blocked by more whiteness.

Looking at it more carefully, he realized that it was white hair. Just as he reminded himself of the concept of hair, he started to perceive his own on top if his head, towards which he moved his hand, thus becoming conscious of it as well. As Harry slowly became reacquainted with the rest of his body, the white hair in front of him started talking.

"It's been a while, my boy. Sorry I had to come in the way of you and the light at the end of the tunnel. They thought it best it be me to inform you of what's to come beforehand."

Harry smiled, slowly lifting his eyes up the length of the white beard to meet those of Albus Dumbledore.

"Hello, Sir. Good to see you again."

Dumbledore smiled.

"Good to see you too, Harry. Although, to be fair, I've been keeping an eye on you all this while. You've done well."

"I did my best," Harry shrugged. It was as simple as that.

Dumbledore nodded, took a deep breath, and decided that there was no better way to say what he had to anyway, so he might just go ahead and drop the bomb.

"And I'm sure you'll do your best again, dear boy."

At that, Harry's eyebrows furrowed with confusion and a tiny bit of justified worry.

"You are about to go through rebirth, Harry. And before you loose your calm, it is something completely natural that every living being goes through upon the end of their current lives. The only difference, in your case, is that your memories of the life you are about to leave behind will remain intact in the new life you are about to start."

Dumbledore remained silent for a few moments, allowing him to process what he had just heard. In the end, Harry appeared to have resigned himself and shook his head.

"But why? And if it so natural for everyone to make this transition, how come you are here?"

"First things first, you are the owner of the Hallows, therefore Master of Death. Death is just a moment in which your memories of one life are mostly removed, before you continue onto your next hoop in the endless chain of reincarnation. Being the Master of Death means simply that you are the master of your life's memories and this moment has no power over them. As for me being here, time is nonexistent in this moment. When you passed away, I had not been reborn yet, however, once you will be reborn, I have been already for some time."

"What?"

Harry could not follow him, but somehow, deep in his being, he understood. There was something in his essence that reassured him, as if it was saying that there was nothing new with his current situation, as if it was suggesting not to worry too much about it, because he had done this numerous times, although he didn't know.

Dumbledore seemed to read his facial expressions well enough, for he smiled warmly and put a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing.

"Don't worry, Harry. I can come find you. As owner of one Hallow at a certain point in time, I will also retain a few memories in this new life. I am sure you will be one of them. Unless you do not wish me to, I'll come to find you."

At that, Harry smiled and nodded. Then, abruptly, a terrifying thought occurred to him.

"Wait! Does that mean Voldemort will also remember? And Grindelwald?"

Then a sparkle of hope.

"My father?"

Dumbledore shook his head, smiling sadly.

"Your father will not coincide with you in this new life. He was already reborn in the life you are about to leave. He was but a kid when you were in your death bed though, and not fully conscious that what he had were memories of his past life, so you have to forgive him for not being able to reach out. And the same will happen for the soul that was once Tom Riddle. He will be approximately born in the same year as you will, however his memories will be too confused and foggy for him to figure out most of it. I don't know the future, but I daresay that unless you search for him, neither of you will realize who the other is if you ever were to cross paths. As for Gellert, I plan to search for him too. I have to make amends and I know he wishes the same. You don't have to worry, Harry. Live this new life carefree and happy, and I'll make sure our paths cross one day. I am convinced that having been in contact with all three Hallows at different moments in time will allow me some leeway in this matter."

Harry listened to every word attentively, then nodded. He felt sad at the thought of being unable to find his loved ones from his most recent life, but then again, a new life would give him the opportunity to love new people and, who knew, unknowingly some of the old ones possibly.

As Dumbledore gave him a last squeeze on his shoulder, Harry smiled.

"See you on the other side, Sir."

"See you soon, Harry."

 **Notes**

 **Thank you for reading! This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction, so reviews and criticism are more than welcome!**


	2. Chapter 1

Harry had a happy childhood.

From the moment he had started his new life, he had been showered with love and attention by both his parents. His mother, Lucia, was sweet and gentle, so happy to be a mother for the first time and so attentive to his wellbeing. His father, Nicolas, was a little stricter, but nonetheless completely smitten with his child.

They lived in Northern Italy, in a little town by the sea that bordered with France. His mother was a nurse and his father was a lawyer, both of them muggles, Harry would think, although he wasn't entirely sure what that meant yet.

They had called him Emilio, to honor his grandfather from his mother's side. However he had known, even while he was just a baby, that his name was Harry.

At the age of 5, he had asked his parents if they could call him Harry instead of Emilio, to which they had had mixed reactions.

His father had dismissed his request at first, saying that the name they had chosen for him was perfectly fine and there was no reason for him to want to be called something as boring as _Harry_. That wasn't even an italian name, which according to his father were better than any other foreign names.

His mom had been more open to hear him out. She had asked him why he wanted to be called a different name, worried that for some reason he was maybe having problems because of his name with the other kids his age. He had told her the truth, that he had been called Harry before and was already used to it. She had looked at him with a worried expression on her gentle face, like she always did when he would bring up something about _before_ , then she had nodded and agreed to call him Harry from then on.

xxx

Harry had many thoughts and memories in his head, and he hadn't always been good at deciphering them. However, with each year that passed, he was becoming gradually better at it.

He enjoyed laying down on the grass of their little backyard, trying to put order in his mind as he looked at the afternoon sky. His mom was his confidante, she would often lay next to him and casually make conversation while they both would make up shapes from the clouds.

"That one looks like a chocolate frog."

"A chocolate frog? Hm. Sounds yummy."

"They are. And they're also fun. You have to catch them and eat them before they hop away."

His mom would smile and ruffle his hair lovingly.

"What a unique imagination you have, my sweet Harry."

He would then turn serious and look at her, his bright green eyes into her warm chocolate ones.

"I am not making it up mommy. Chocolate frogs are real."

Her smile would not falter at these confessions. She knew her son well. She had dedicated her life to him from the moment he'd been born and had done her very best to be the kind of parent that has a special bond with their child. Seven years of raising and loving her Harry, who didn't want to be called Emilio, had opened up her mind in a way that she had not expected a child would.

She didn't know what it was about her son that made him special, she had no theories that explained why he just knew things that regular children didn't, or why some of the things he knew were completely unusual and unheard of, yet made perfect sense. She didn't care, all she cared about was her son's wellbeing and happiness, so she did what any good mother would have done. She made sure her son understood how unconditionally she loved him and that he felt always safe talking to her.

"I believe you, dear."

Harry smiled and touched her soft cheek with his small fingers.

"Thank you, mommy. Your hair is not red, but you are my mom, always."

They had talked about the woman with red hair many times, that Harry would refer to as his _first mom._ Initially she had felt worried that Harry was lacking something from her as a mother figure, and had therefore come up with this red haired other mother. Then he had talked about her for a while, saying he didn't get to know her, but many had told him she had been beautiful and strong, and that she had loved him very much.

And then, almost ashamed of what he was saying, he had confessed to her in hushed whispers that he loved her more than his first mom. His cheeks on fire, he had said he hadn't really known her and he wished he could have, but now he had mommy, which was always there with him, and he couldn't imagine loving anyone as much as he did mommy.

Lucia had embraced him tightly and silently cried on her son's tiny shoulder that day.

xxx

When Harry got to 3rd grade, his father decided it was time for his son to start on extracurricular activities that would serve him in becoming a well rounded individual. As his parents had done with him, he wanted for Harry to pursue knowledge of a foreign language, learn to play a musical instrument, and actively engage in a sport.

He shared his ideas with his son and wife on the dinner table one September evening, eager to hear their thoughts on it.

"So, Emilio, what do you think about the specifics of each?"

Harry sighed.

"It's Harry, dad."

As always, his father rolled his eyes.

"Nonsense. However, I am still waiting to hear what you'd prefer to do, before I go ahead and enroll you in disciplines of my choice."

Harry was not sure what language or instrument he would have enjoyed pursuing, but he knew which sport he'd enjoy the most.

"I want to play Quidditch. As for languages, maybe German or French? Whichever you think would be best, dad, I don't mind either way. Same with the instrument really, I am not into any specific one."

His father looked curious.

"I've never heard of Quidditch. Is it one of those obscure and ridiculous sports you never hear about until they show up on the Olympics? Like that ice shaving and skating one, what's that one called again."

Harry and Lucia started giggling, knowing fully well which sport he meant and also being very aware how secretly fascinated he was with it.

"It's called Curling, dad. And no, Quidditch has nothing to do with ice. It's actually played in the sky, on flying brooms and with several balls."

His father looked almost disappointed that his son hadn't meant Curling.

"Emil... Harry, you know I do appreciate the unique stories you come up with. But let's be serious for a moment. What would you like to do, you barely gave me any answers."

As his father was talking, his mom winked at him from the other side of the table. He sent a small smile her way.

They had talked about Quidditch before in detail, and his mom was almost as much into it as he was. But she had also told him it was one of those things she had never encountered before.

Harry assumed it was one of those things he remembered from before, and that chances were he wouldn't get to experience again. He felt a great amount of sadness overcome him at the thought.

"Can we talk about this tomorrow? I feel very tired all of a sudden."

Without waiting for an answer, he stood up from his chair and exited the dining room.

xxx

Later that night, as he was reading one of his favorite books for the third time, he heard a soft knock on his bedroom door, which he immediately recognized as his mother's.

Putting the book down and standing up from his bed, he went to open the door.

His mom smiled at him, offering him a small tray of fruit.

"You barely had anything to eat at dinner. You should at least have some grape before you go to sleep."

Smiling back, he took the tray and walked towards his bed, where he sat down, followed by his mother. She noticed the book, left open and face down on the bed, to keep track of the page.

"You really like this one, don't you. I had a feeling when I got it for you."

Harry shrugged.

"The description for dragons is very accurate."

His mother raised her hand to caress his hair. It was very soft and neat, different from the hair he had had before, but still the same dark brown, similar to his mom's.

His features were a balanced mix between his parents, while his eyes were the same he had had before. Neither one of his parents had green eyes. His mother said his grandfather did, the one he had been named after, but still not as bright as his.

"Do you want to tell me what is upsetting you?"

Again, he shrugged.

"It's just that, things should have happened by now. The fact that they haven't happened might mean that I won't get to experience some of the things that I remember from before."

His mom nodded.

"Like Quidditch."

It wasn't a question. She knew him quite well, and he always felt surprised and quite grateful at that.

"Yeah, like Quidditch."

"And what kind of things are supposed to happen for you to experience things like Quidditch?"

Harry looked at his book absentmindedly.

"I am not sure. Unusual things around me, I think. I don't know what exactly, but... ugh, I don't know."

He felt frustrated at himself more than usual lately. He had all this knowledge in his head, and yet, he couldn't access it fully, as if something was blocking it.

"Harry, you know I love you and I think that there is nothing wrong with you the way you are. But, my darling, don't you think that unusual things happen to you on a daily basis? I mean, all these things that you know and talk about, some are quite unusual."

He shook his head.

"No, mom. I mean more like a physical manifestation of something unusual. Like, I don't know, something breaking when I get too angry or upset ."

His mom then smiled warmly and ruffled his hair.

"Well, not that I want you to start breaking things around the house with your emotions anytime soon, but have you considered that maybe you have never had cause to get angry or upset enough for it to happen? Mind you, that fills me with satisfaction as a parent."

She was positively beaming at him at that point, and he couldn't help but feeling just as good at his good luck and amazing parents.

"You have an excellent point, mom."

After a few more minutes spent talking about Quidditch and dragons, his mom tucked him and kissed him on the forehead, before saying goodnight and exiting his room.

As he fell asleep that night, Harry wondered if he'd ever feel upset enough and shook his head. He thanked his lucky stars for his family and fell asleep with a smile.

xxx

Lucia was not happy. In fact, she was the complete opposite of happy. Since she had gotten a call from Harry's principal, saying that her son had gotten involved in a fight during lunch break, she had immediately called a colleague to get her shift covered at the hospital, rushed into her car and headed towards Harry's school by barely staying within the speed limit.

Her son was not the kind of kid who got into fights. He was friendly and sweet to everyone, had a couple of close friends he enjoyed having play dates with, but all in all, he was quite reserved. He did not get much involved with other people to even be involved in any disagreements, let alone fights.

Getting to the school and finding out that the person Harry had had a disagreement with was one of his close friends, Vittorio, was even more surprising to her. what had gotten into her level-headed son all of a sudden?

Neither boy said a word, disregarding Lucia's gentle inquiry and the principals insistent remarks about how the consequences would be worse for them if they refused to even say what had happened. The arrival of Vittorio's father shortly after did nothing to change the situation and by the end of those uncomfortable 30 minutes or so, the principal had suspended them both for two days.

Lucia refused to give in to her son's silence, however, and made it very clear to him on the ride home, that she expected answers once they'd get there. Harry remained silent, but she could see the resolution in his eyes falter already.

"You remember how Vittorio and I met?"

Lucia nodded. It had been when they were 4 years old, while they were on holidays at the beach. Harry had not been particularly shy as a little kid, but he had also appeared to have little to no interest in befriending other kids his age. Vittorio, on the other hand, was an extroverted child that managed to win everyone over with his jokes and games.

Harry continued. "I didn't like him much, because he was arrogant and would sometimes make fun of other kids. But he was funny and adventurous, and didn't seem to mind that I wasn't much of a talker. He reminded me of someone I used to know, or better say, someone I used to know of."

He paused, seemingly lost in some memory that Lucia could only speculate about.

When Harry would speak of people from before, she never asked him for further explanations. She knew Harry did not have specific details, but just some foggy bits and pieces. She also knew her son would feel particularly hurt and nostalgic when talking about those people.

She put her palm gently on his back, encouraging him to continue.

"I remained friends with him for this reason and also, because in the end, he has always been nice to me. But today he crossed a line. He pulled this kid's pants down in the middle of the cafeteria for the whole school to see. It was a first grader and he started crying, while Vittorio kept laughing.

I could have simply told him to stop, that it was awful what he did to that kid, and that he should never do it again. He usually listens to me. But I didn't.

In my mind, I kept remembering a mirroring scene, only this time in an open field by a lake, with much older kids. And I knew that the bully was my father, and I felt disappointment like never before.

I wanted to punch him, my father, not Vittorio. But somehow I found myself in front of Vittorio and I was just about to punch him, when he just sort of was pushed away by some gust of wind and crashed onto the closest table. And when he got up, his nose was bleeding, even though I had not touched him at all. That's when he hit me and the fight properly started.

Somehow, I don't think it matters that I didn't throw the first punch. I feel like I was responsible for that gust of wind or whatever you want to call it. So it was my fault.

I couldn't tell the principal all of that, he wouldn't have believed me. And I guess Vittorio didn't want to get in trouble for bullying another student in the first place."

He had narrated what had happened with his head hung, avoiding his mother's eyes. Once finished, though, he looked up at her with guilty eyes.

She had never stopped caressing his back and moved her hand up to his hair.

"While you did have reason to be angry, I am displeased that you lost control like that. You are unique, Harry, and I love you for that too, but that doesn't exonerate you from responsibility.

This is the first time something like this has happened, and thankfully it did not result in long term repercussions, so we can let this one slide. I expect you to be better prepared to handle yourself in the future, though."

 _My mother could be a Slytherin_ , Harry thought absentmindedly. It was one of those stray thoughts he sometimes had but couldn't exactly decipher.

He hugged her, thankful for how understanding she was with him, always.

"Did the rest of the students notice that you hadn't touched Vittorio when he went crashing onto the table?" she inquired.

"I highly doubt it. I was very close to him and it all happened so fast."

She nodded, kissed him on top of his head and released him from the hug.

"I'll call Vittorio's parents, find out what version of the events he has told them. I don't think they'll believe him, even if he tells them you managed to push him without touching him."

"Thank you, mom."

They smiled at each other.

"So, was this the something that had to happen for you to experience some other things?" she asked him with entertainment in her dark eyes.

He nodded with excitement. "Yes. And I know what it is now. It's accidental magic."

 **Notes**

 **I want to warn you, the plot is going to move slow at the start. Harry is still a child, 8 years old by the end of this chapter, and as a result his thoughts and understanding of his current situation are quite foggy. He will regain bits and pieces of memories in due time, no worries.**

 **I still intend this story to develop to a point where it becomes slash, however that won't be the main focus of it. When that happens, and if the rating goes up, I will update the information appropriately.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing ;)**


	3. Chapter 2

Growing up in northern Italy, being part of an upperclass family, and having a father whose ego could rival that of a Malfoy, Harry had quite some pressure on his tiny shoulders to always excel in all that he did. The fact that he had been trying to play several musical instruments for the past two years, only to miserably fail at each one of them up to the point where he'd just quit trying, was a source of great embarrassment for him.

He'd just gotten back from one more fruitless balalaika class, fooling himself after his failed attempt at bass guitar that three chords would have been easier to manage than four.

His mother had tried to cheer him up the whole ride home, but Harry just couldn't find it in himself to even pay attention. He had been particularly distracted lately, making his musical performance even more abysmal than usual.

School was almost over, the summer holidays just around the corner. This meant no more balalaika, to his immense relief, and also no more french and karate, although he'd miss the latter.

He got along well with the other kids there, which was something short of a miracle for him. Where once he'd been indifferent towards other kids his age, now he actively avoided them.

He found them mostly boring and extremely petty, with a few rare exceptions, like his karate companions and his friend Joanne. He'd miss her the most once he'd have to leave to go to boarding school in September.

He knew at this point that his Hogwarts letter, probably accompanied by one of the professors since he was a muggleborn, was due anytime. He was excited and sad at the same time. He'd miss his parents and Joanne quite a lot.

After his first episode of accidental magic around two years prior, a few others had followed, and with each one new memories and realizations. He knew about the magic world, Hogwarts, the train ride, the houses, and he even remembered Ron and Hermione, which were a cause of great nostalgia for him.

He had, of course, shared all of his thoughts with his mother. Harry was amazed at her, at how easily she accepted him and all his stories without ever doubting him, or worse, thinking he was not right in the head.

At his inquiry, she had shrugged, and said "There has just been too much evidence for me to even consider that there is something else going on with your mental health. I knew you were special from the day you were born. You never cried, not even once, and you'd look at me with eyes too wise for a baby."

She had not been as excited, though, to the news that he'd be away from home for months at a time. She had asked him if home schooling would be an option, if there were other magical schools that did not require boarding, if he was sure he was not interested in pursuing a non-magical career in the future, etc. In the end, she had given up, exasperated that she'd have to learn to deal with the prolonged absence of her favorite person in the whole world.

Thus, Harry couldn't be bothered by his failed musical lessons, or his father's annoyance at his inexplicable lack of talent. He was going to Hogwarts soon and his letter would arrive any day now.

xxx

It was the first of July of a particularly hot summer. Harry had been spending the day at the beach with Joanne and her family. The two of them had been planning to set up a tent in her backyard and spend the night trying to identify the constellations, which was their favorite night time activity.

As they finished dinner, the sun had started to set. They were taking their respective empty plates to the kitchen, when Joanne's mother received a call on her mobile.

It was his mother. After a brief conversation with the other woman, the phone was passed to him.

"Hey, mom."

"Hello, dear. There is someone here, with the letter you've been waiting to receive. I asked Joanne's mother if she could give you a ride home and she said she doesn't mind."

Harry felt a rush of excitement go through his spine. "Awesome! I'll see you in a bit, mom!"

xxx

As he was standing in front of the french witch sitting on his living room sofa, Harry couldn't help but feel annoyed at himself. How hadn't he figured it out? He was an Italian citizen, not an English person. His name had not appeared on the list of new students at Hogwarts. It had appeared, instead, at Beauxbatons.

"...and then the estimated gentleman said he had no choice but to escort me out. Unbelievable! I had to wait for his husband to get back from work in the hopes that he'd be more reasonable, which he was, luckily for me and for their daughter."

Madame Juliette, as she had introduced herself, had not stopped talking for more than a few seconds at a time. She finished recounting the story of how once a muggle father of an adopted witch had refused to believe any word coming from her, even after witnessing her elegant demonstration of transfiguration on the cup of lemonade she had been handed, making it sprout wings and become a canary. He had brushed the whole thing off, and told her he wouldn't fall for such tricks and to leave his daughter be, _or else_.

Before the madame cheerfully started another story, Harry decided to grasp the opportunity that her 5 seconds of silence offered, while she sipped from her glass of water.

"Excuse me, but how exactly did my name appear in the list of a french magical school? I mean, why not any other country's school?"

She smiled cordially, before launching herself in another river of words.

"Well, dear boy, unfortunately Italy does not have a wizardry school. Most magical families prefer to home school their children, following traditions passed down their line from generations of wizards and witches. The muggleborn birth rate is quite low as well, therefore the need to organize an educational institution has never risen in your country.

You do have the choice, however, to learn through a correspondence course. The Italian Ministry of Magic would provide you with an owl, the textbooks, and a regulated wand, and you'd have to take a yearly exam until you turn 19, as per this country's regulations.

It wouldn't compare, however, to the level of knowledge and experience you'd gain in a school. So, for the past 10 years, Beauxbatton has expanded their area of jurisdiction, in accordance to the Educational Decree 19 agreed upon by both french and Italian magical goverments. We want to offer children the opportunity to exceed, and for muggleborns to fully experience the magical community they are a part of."

Her smile had gotten bigger and bigger as she went on. Harry could tell she meant every word and truly felt passionate about it. He wondered whether she herself was a muggleborn.

Before he could say anything else in response, his father clapped his hands once, beaming at him.

"Well, you're going. You have to, Emilio. This is such a unique occurrence! I can scarcely believe this is happening. To my son! All those times your musical instruments would randomly break in the middle of particularly horrid practices... hah, what a laugh! I just don't know how to process this... But you're going!"

His father was looking borderline hysteric. Harry had never seen this mood on him before and couldn't help but find it quite amusing and chuckle.

"No worries, dad. I am certainly going."

He then looked at his mother, whose expression was a mix between happy pride and anxious reluctance. Harry smiled reassuringly and reached for her hand.

"It's OK, mom. I promise to keep in touch."

She squeezed his hand in response and smiled back.

xxx

The day following Juliette's visit found Harry back at his friend Joanne's place, accompanied by his parents. They had news to share and an offer to make.

The french woman had informed them that the upcoming school year was to be the first attempt in wizarding history to start an integration between the magical and non magical world. The witch had explained how the ignorance of muggle technological and scientific advancement was a hindrance in the magical community's own development. It also made it nearly impossible keeping the whole community hidden, which had definitely encouraged members of the french Ministry of Magic to pioneer in a set of unique reforms.

The reforms aimed to start a gradual integration by inviting a muggle child for each first year magical child to attend Beauxbatouns. They had also decided it best to give the opportunity to every first year magical child to extend the invitation to a muggle child they already knew.

Harry had questioned how a muggle was expected to attend a wizarding school, considering their lack of magic. Juliette had enthusiastically gone through a new torrent of words to explain that every living being was magical, but not all were able to access it freely. Muggles did not have enough access to it to be able to perform spells through the means of a wand, but studies showed that they could be just as adept as wizards in disciplines such as potion making, divination, astral communication, flying, and so on.

From there, Harry had had no doubt who he wanted to take to France with him. As his parents were trying to convince Joanne's that they had not lost their minds and they were being serious, Harry was happily telling his friend about all the things he had not dared to reveal to her before.

Much to his surprise, Joanne didn't look shocked at his confessions. At his inquiry why that was so, she rolled her eyes.

"I've known you since kindergarten Harry. It doesn't take a genius to notice your accidental magic, especially when you manage to throw a kid almost twice your size to the other side of the room without touching them."

They both frowned at the memory. Vittorio was a sore subject. The three of them used to be inseparable when they were younger. That hadn't been the case for the past year though. The boy had managed to become even more arrogant than before, going as far as trying to hurt his own friends' feelings just so he could feel superior.

Shaking off the sullen mood, Harry smiled at his friend and handed her the invitation letter to Beauxbatouns.

"Mom and dad are thinking of spending the week before school starts in France. You are welcome to come with. A friend of mom's lives close to Paris, she is going to be hosting us and showing us around. It'll be fun!"

Joanne beamed "Oh, I've always wanted to visit Paris! The art, the history, the food, the wine..." her eyes shining as she clasped her hands on her chest.

"You're too young for wine, Jo." Harry said with a raised eyebrow.

She shrugged, smiling mischievously. "Oh Harry, you are such a mood killer."

xxx

Their week in Paris was the most fun Harry had had in his short second life. They had seen the sunset from the top of the Eiffel tower, found a portrait of a nude man in the Louvre that comically resembled Harry's father and spent the whole day laughing about it, consumed so many pastries that their fingers were sticky with sugar most of the time, and each had secretly tried a sip of sparkling white wine from Lucia's very cool friend.

Regardless of the amazing time they had all had in muggle Paris, nothing beat the excitement of visiting the Parisian wizarding neighborhood, Le Loup Bleu, and shopping for school supplies.

Harry's father had initially wrinkled his nose at the prospect of following madame Juliette's instructions of descending into the basement of a very run down and probably unhygienic cheese store. After some prompting from his wife - _"Come on, Nico, live a little"_ \- they had all descended to the basement, which turned out to be the entrance to a busy underground community.

There were all kinds of shops and installments, as well as apartment buildings that appeared to be occupied by regular tenants. Harry couldn't decide if it was bigger than Diagon Alley, or the buildings were just smaller and compacted, which made everything look _denser._

Joanne was immediately taken with the blue winged wolves that were perching on roofs, balconies, or simply roaming around the streets unbothered and unbothering to the witches and wizards. Undecided whether to go ahead and pet one, she caught sight of an old man sitting on a bench, sharing a sandwich with three of the animals, who all had their heads on his lap and were giving him irresistible puppy eyes. With no hesitation, she approached the man and started conversing with non-nonchalance, while petting all three of the magical creatures.

Harry smiled. Joanne was an animal person, and he hadn't expected that to change when it came to magical ones.

Through all the distractions and amusement, they reached _Baguettes et Amulettes,_ where Harry was to get a wand and Joanne an amulet.

As they entered the store, Harry was surprised to see how bright and colorful it was. The well lit room was covered in wall shelves, which in turn were occupied by a variety of wands, crystals, and objects that Harry couldn't quite identify. Behind the counter, a young woman with a pixie haircut was smiling politely.

"Welcome to _Baguettes et Amulettes_! We are happy to assist you in the purchase of a wand or amulet today. If you are a first time customer on your way to Beauxbatons we are offering a 15% discount on your purchase, and if you are accompanied by a muggle child in need of an amulet, that's going to be a 20% discount for both."

As she was happily welcoming them, her eyes were excitedly on the two children that were looking at the shelves' colorful content in awe. Harry's heart was racing. He knew he'd be happy to return to the wizarding world, but he hadn't expected to experience everything as if it was the first time. He didn't know if it was because he wasn't in England or because more than 100 years had passed since Hagrid had knocked down the heavy door of uncle Vernon's hideout to deliver his Hogwarts letter. He looked at his parents, introducing themselves to the cheerful woman, and at Joanne, proudly announcing she was a muggle in need of an amulet. Maybe experiencing it all with a family that loved him was what made the biggest difference, he thought.

The shopkeeper introduced herself as Elise and expressed much enthusiasm in helping him and Joanne find what they needed. She started with Joanne, instructing her to take her time and go through the store until she felt a pull towards one of the items on the shelves.

"And remember, do not rush it, do not go for something just because you think it's pretty or sparkly. When you find what you need, you'll know it, and your amulet will know it too."

Nodding with determination, Joanne made her way to the nearest wall and started carefully inspecting the items.

"As for you, young man, I need you to follow me as we try a couple of wands, just to get an idea of what would suit you best at start, until we narrow it down to your ideal wand."

She took his hand and guided him to the opposite wall from Joanne, where she selected a couple of wands and handed him the first one, instructing him to wave it at a small glass that she transfigured from a 1 euro coin.

Harry did, and nothing happened. Uncertain, he looked up at her.

"Alright, no elemental cores for you. It's a rare match, but a girl can dream." she winked at him.

"Try this now" she said as she handed him another wand.

He felt a tingle in his fingers as he wrapped them around it, but once he waved it, the tiny glass merely shook a little on the shopkeeper's palm.

She took back the wand, murmuring "too weak", and selected another.

They were still at it almost half an hour later, when Joanne exclaimed " I found it! This one is my amulet!"

She proudly held up what appeared to be a pearlescent teardrop.

Elise started applauding excitedly.

"The Armenian moonstone! That is excellent! I collected this one myself on the night of the Wolf Moon, which is the first full moon of the year. Very auspicious, if you ask me. You are one special young lady, Joanne. Your hidden magic is that of intuition, balance, and transcendence. I expect you will do splendidly in your Spirituality and Alchemy classes."

Joanne's smile couldn't have been any brighter or wider. She turned her attention to Harry's parents, asking them if they would like to hold her Armenian moonstone, while Elise and him returned their attention to finding his wand.

Harry didn't recall exactly how long it had taken Ollivander, but as they were close to an hour of trials with over half of the wands aligned on the wall, he started panicking.

"Does it usually take this long to find a match?" he asked as he was returning what was probably wand nr. 107 to the shopkeeper. At that point, Joanne and his parents were done investigating the items on display and were now intently watching him wave wand after wand with varying results upon the small glass on Alice's hand. He was getting quite restless and the feeling of being under scrutiny wasn't helping either.

"It is unusual, but not unprecedented. Your magical signature is quite unique, is all it means. It just makes it harder for me to figure out the next wand for you to try out. So far I've ruled out the most popular cores, that include elemental, creature, and natural catalysts. We got quite close with the Thestral bone core, but it's not quite it. It's intriguing, though, that none of the other creature cores responded nearly as well."

She was talking quickly and excitedly, as she was rummaging through the shelves on the wall.

"I cannot tell how exhilarating this experience has been. This is why I love this job. I always hoped to see such unique magic, and I am witnessing two in one day, and one of them from a muggle no less!"

Harry found her to be very amusing, but his father was clearly of a different opinion.

"Excuse me, miss, but what is the guarantee that my son's wand is in this store, and not in another one, where they would have probably helped him find a match by now." he sneered, never having been one for patience.

Surprisingly, the lively shopkeeper didn't take his remark personally and smiled even wider, if that was even possible.

"You most certainly present a good point, sir. You could indeed have gone to a different and top-notch wand store, such as Ollivanders in London. They've been making loyal, quality wands for hundreds of generations and your son would have most probably found a match in a manner of minutes there. However, Ollivander is known for favoring a select few creature catalysts, which work well for most wizards and witches, but would not do any justice to a wizard with a unique magic such as your son. He would still be as good with a wand like that, but he would not reach his full potential, unless the core matched his signature very closely. Here at _Baguettes et Amulettes_ we pride ourselves with the variety of cores we import internationally and aim to bring our customers as close to their perfect match as possible."

Something in Harry's mind was nagging at him, like a past memory trying to resurface, but was just out of reach. Something about his first wand, the one that had chosen him at Ollivanders.

 _It is the wand that chooses the wizard..._

 _Curious..._

He frowned. What had been curious about his wand again? Then the full memory of that first visit at Ollivanders hit him for the first time like a boulder and he suddenly remembered, more clearly than he ever had, his first childhood.

He knew he'd been an orphan, that he had grown up with insufferable relatives, that Hogwarts and magic had been his salvation.

Now he remembered it all. The reason why he had been an orphan, his phoenix feather wand core, his wand's brother... _Voldemort._..

He felt lightheaded and, before he knew it, his vision was covered by a myriad of black dots. As he fell on the floor, the last thing he registered was his mother's concerned gasp.

 **Notes**

 **Thank you for reading this chapter! It makes me really happy to share this with people rather than just my laptop screen and I do hope you find it enjoyable.**

 **I realize it took a while to update and I'm not gonna make excuses, because life happens to all of us. If you are patient with me and like this story enough to stick with it, you are welcome to join in this journey of figuring out my writing rhythms and the best way to provide regular updates.**


	4. Chapter 3

"Et voilà! We finally found it! Only took us... what? Two hours and one Rennervate? Not my most difficult client yet, but not the easiest one either."

Elise was emanating satisfaction from every pore, while Harry sighed with relief. The whole ordeal had taken quite a lot of energy from him. His arm ached from all the waving of so many wands. On top of that, he had been having an intense headache since he came to and couldn't get the image of Voldemort -with his reptilian face and all- out of his mind.

His mother had been hovering around him, concerned and restless. She had always been the kind of parent that had a tendency to over worry. He had taken a habit of hiding from her whenever he would feel a sneeze coming, otherwise he would have to endure through her fussing about how he was about to get a cold or how his nonexistent allergies were acting up.

He was not looking forward to telling her about what caused him to black out. Trying to shake it all off, Harry chose to focus on his wand. It felt heavy in his hand compared to the other wands he had tried out and the wood was of a reddish brown color. One swish had transfigured the small glass into a golden cup.

Looking up at Elise, he was about to ask her for the wand's details, but the young woman didn't need any encouragement.

"You are one special wizard, Harry. Not only is yours a beech wand, which usually chooses to match with older and experienced wizards, but it has a mušḫuššu heartstring core. The mušḫuššu is believed to have been extinct for centuries and this wand right here is ancient. It was donated to our store in the 17th century among other prized wands by a wealthy middle-eastern wand collector. He had a close friendship with the wandmaker at the time and, upon his death, he left his lifetime collection to him. This is one of the few still left in our store and, to be honest, I thought I would never see the day it would match so perfectly."

As his parents took care of the payment for his wand and Joanne's amulet, Harry had a moment to reflect upon his newfound memories. He had not given much thought to the things he just knew before. As a small child, although very sure in himself of the truthfulness of his memories, he had been too young to reflect on their nature and what they entailed. He had started remembering about Hogwarts and the friends he had made there not too long ago. That had been an assurance of sorts to what he had been feeling in his very core for a long time, that his were memories from a past life. He wondered whether it was common for wizards to retain memories in the way that he did, or whether he was an exception to the rule.

"A knut for your thoughts?" Joanne asked with an expression of pride mixed with curiosity. He smiled at her, acknowledging her attempt at converting a muggle saying into a wizarding one.

"I'm going to need a history book. Hell, we're both going to need so many extra books. There is so much we don't know about this new world, we have to catch up."

xxx

On the morning of the 1st of September Harry's parents accompanied him and Joanne to the Bois de Vincennes. Following the instructions on their school letters, they had searched for a twin set of high horse shaped bushes in the north-east area of the large park. The two horses were facing each other in a mirroring rearing and one by one they proceeded to pass in between the bushes after muttering:"La connaissance est l'illumination".

They found themselves in a meadow, where a significant amount of families had also gathered. People all around them were hugging and giving last minute advice to their children.

Joanne gasped and took a hold of Harry's sleeve, frantically pointing towards the far end of the meadow.

"Look at those huge Pegasi, Harry!"

"Abraxans," Harry corrected her without thinking.

The white winged equines were grazing, unbothered by the large crowd. They were attached in groups of twelve to six enormous light blue carriages.

"I guess we'll be flying to school," Harry commented with a smile, which earned him a look of awe from Joanne, open mouth and saucer-like eyes included.

His mother's hand rested on his shoulder.

"I am so excited for you two. You'll be experiencing so many wondrous things. Just please remember to be careful and write home once in a while."

They had ended up getting him a young brown owl. His mother had been adamant that he write her at least once a week.

As Lucia was hugging the two children and her husband was trying to hide the fact that his eyes were teary, they heard the jingling sound of bells and the students started making their way towards the carriages.

With one last caress to his cheek, his mother said "Be careful, my son. And I wish you a simple and happy school year."

Harry's heart warmed up with affection for the wonderful woman that he had the luck to call his mother.

A few days ago, following their shopping spree at Le Loup Bleu, he had shared his memories of Voldemort with her and Joanne. They weren't clear and connected yet, but he vividly remembered being unable to experience a normal life because of the dark wizard. After Harry's narrative of what he could recall, the three of them had gone through the two history books Harry had purchased and read about the first and second wizarding war that took place in Britain because of the most feared Dark Lord of all time.

His mother had been astonished to find out what Harry had had to go through at such young age and what he had accomplished in his previous life. In addition to that, seeing records of it written in a history book shook her deeply. She had always believed her son's stories, but it was quite a different feeling holding historical evidence of it in her hands.

Joanne, on the other hand, hadn't been surprised. She had told Harry that she knew from the first time he had met him that he was not ordinary.

"There is an aura around you, Harry. People can't see it, but I know they can feel it. It shows experience beyond your years, traces of great suffering, and above all, a uniqueness that I couldn't begin to explain."

Joanne had always had a keen eye and excellent observational skills. Since she had gotten her amulet, she said she could see things clearer than before. It was almost as if she had been wearing dirty glasses and now they were finally clean.

With one last kiss to his mother's cheek and a hug to his dad, Harry got a hold of Joanne's hand and they headed towards the carriages.

The young girl couldn't help but pet the Abraxans before they got on the carriage. Harry rolled his eyes with amusement.

"I can't believe her courage. And I can't believe they are just letting her pet them." a small voice murmured in french.

Harry turned around to face a boy of a small stature with dusty blonde hair and hazel eyes.

"Why shouldn't they?" Harry inquired.

The boy shrugged, a mystified look on his face.

"Abraxans aren't exactly known for their good temper. They're actually very proud creatures and don't appreciate being treated like pets. Yet there they are, easily accepting her just like that."

Harry smiled. "Joanne has always had a way with with all living beings, regardless of species."

The boy seemed to come out of his stupor.

"Would you and your friend like to sit with me on the carriage? I would like to get to know you."

Joanne had just returned to Harry's side and extended her hand to the new boy. "We would love to. Nice to meet you, I am Joanne Cuercia and this is my best friend Emilio Borini, he goes by Harry. We're from Italy."

Shaking her hand and then Harry's, the boy smiled. "Pleasure to meet you, Abraxan whisperer and Harry, my name is Corvus Malfoy-Potter. I'm from England."

Harry had to control the gasp that was threatening to escape him, but Joanne completely failed to hide her surprise.

Corvus didn't take it badly, though, as he timidly lowered his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yes, I am a descendant of those Potters, although not by blood. My grandfather was adopted by Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy in their later years. Let's not make a big deal of it, please. Just treat me as you normally would."

Harry couldn't, much to his frustration, remember his children. He had read about them and what they had accomplished in the history books. He had also seen their pictures and even though it had filled him with a sense of nostalgia and pride, he couldn't remember them. Joanne's theory was that he would, in time, start getting back the memories of them as he got closer to the age when he actually had them.

He was unable to speak. Fortunately, Joanne did for both of them.

"No need to worry, Corvus. We promise to not judge you for your family, but for who you are."

Corvus nodded in relief.

As they stepped into the carriage, Joanne and their newfound companion were excitedly talking about the Abraxans. She gasped and awed at him telling her that his mother had a pair of them at home, back in England.

"I'm not allowed to get close to them. My mother is the only one they allow on their backs. My sister takes care of their grooming and feeding. Mom says I'm still to young to manage any of that."

"What about your father? Do you think they just don't like guys?" Joanne asked.

"Oh, I wouldn't know. My father passed when I was 4, I don't remember much of him."

"I am sorry about that." Joanne's hand rested on his in empathy.

Corvus blushed at the touch, but didn't move his hand from under hers.

"It's OK. As I said, I don't remember much. I am also very close to my mother and my sister, they are great, I have never felt that I'm missing anything."

He shook his head.

"Um, sorry. I don't know why I told you that. I usually don't overshare like this."

Harry smiled at them both.

"That's the Joanne effect for you. I told you she has a way with all living beings. You don't need to worry, though. Whatever you share, stays between us."

Corvus nodded his head in appreciation to Harry's words.

"I'm curious, why are you coming to Beauxbaton? Shouldn't you be enrolled in Hogwarts?" Harry asked, as it had just occurred to him that the boy lived in the UK.

"Yes, I was. But I didn't want to deal with the attention my last name attracts. My sister thrives on it, but we are different on that front. On top of that, my grandfather is headmaster. It was just too much and I was very nervous to start fist year. My mother went to Beauxbaton and she suggested it as an alternative, so here I am."

As they continued to share details about their lives, the carriage was approaching their destination.

All of the students started shuffling in their seats, trying to get a look out of the windows.

The view that greeted them was breathtaking. Mountainous ranges and forests surrounded what was unmistakably the Beauxbaton Academy. A palace of great dimensions faced the most beautiful gardens that Harry had ever seen. In the center of the gardens, there was a shining golden spot that seemed to twinkle in welcome under the rays of the setting sun.

"Magnifique," murmured Corvus, and all Harry and Joanne could do was nod in reply.

xxx

Shortly after landing (and after Joanne was done petting the Abraxans and wishing them farewell), the first years were escorted to what their guide, who introduced himself as Professor Joules, called the Welcoming Room.

"We are truly happy to welcome you to your first year at the Beauxbaton Academy of Magic. We are also proud to be one of the pioneering schools to welcome muggle students in our midst for the first time. It is certainly the start of a historical time. We will shortly be entering the Dining Chambers, where we hold our annual Welcome Banquet, as well as other celebrations and daily meals. Before we proceed, I will hand out your schedules and explain your classes."

With a flick of his wand, the stack of sheets he was holding unraveled and flew across the room in a seemingly chaotic manner, until each sheet was being held by a student.

Professor Joules continued.

"Now, as you can see, all first years attend classes together. These are beginner classes, and I suggest you take them very seriously, since they will help you discover your affinity and passion towards certain topics. Depending on your interests, and as the years go on, you will branch out of these starter classes to more specialized areas of magic. Your professors will be there to help you make the right choices along the way, however, it is mostly your hard work in this first year that will determine successful choices in the future."

Harry looked at his schedule.

They would be starting with Flying Methods at 9 in the morning the next day. It also appeared to be the only class they had on Saturdays. They had Intro to Spirituality, Comparative History, and Trans-sectional Culture and Traditions twice a week, Principles of Alchemy and Theory of Magic three times a week, and Wand and Amulet Practice every afternoon, which was the only time Joanne and him would be learning separately.

Corvus whistled lowly.

"It looks like hard work."

"Can't wait" beamed Harry, to which Joanne coughed "Nerd" under her breath.

Professor Joules had proceeded to explain that they would be sorted into one of three houses: Bellefeuille, Ombrelune, or Papillonlisse. The sorting would take place in the Ball Room as soon as the older students had settled.

"I am positive I will end up in Papillonlisse. It's supposed to be the house for creative students. I don't think I'm good at it, but I enjoy visual arts more than anything, especially drawing," Corvus said excitedly.

Joanne looked at him with admiration.

"That's so cool, Corvus! I would love to see your drawings! I'm really bad at it, but I like looking at other people's works. Where do you think I'll end up?"

"Deffinitely Bellefeuille, it's the house for nature lovers and an Abraxan whisperer like yourself would thrive in Bellefeuille." Corvus nodded with conviction.

"What is Ombrelune like then?" Harry asked.

"It's the house for the ambitious. Students of Ombrelune are not usually known for being the friendly or happy-go-lucky kind, though. I wonder whether you would be sorted there, Harry. Would you consider yourself ambitious?"

Harry laughed, thinking back on his first sorting and how the hat had almost put him in Slytherin.

"Depends. My biggest goal is to live a normal life. It's not that interesting, but I feel very passionately about it. Would you call that ambitious?"

Before Corvus could answer him, professor Joules signaled them to follow him out of the room and they walked down the hall to the Dining Chambers.

As the first years walked in, they were so speechless they almost forgot the nervousness for the upcoming sorting. The Dining Chambers were by far the most luxurious thing they could ever dream of. The walls were covered in royal blue velvet drapes, all except for the immense french doors that gave way to a terrace and a magnificent view of the gardens. A blue sky with cotton clouds was painted on the ceiling, with Abraxans, Hippogriffs, Thestrals, Phoenixes and more flying creatures than any of them could recognize.

It was definitely something else, not at all like the atmosphere of the Great Hall, Harry thought, as he noticed the crystal cups, plates and cutlery on the round tables that accommodated seven people at a time.

Professor Joules guided them through the tables to the center of the Ball Room, which was unoccupied. He turned towards the table nearest to the terrace exit and bowed.

"With your permission, Madame Jolie, we shall proceed with the sorting."

Joanne could only do so much to cover her squeal at the sight of the Headmistress. With almond eyes, silver shimmery hair and pointy long ears, she looked beautiful and ageless.

"Madame Jolie has mixed creature blood. No one knows for sure, but you can tell she definitely has a Veela ancestor at the very least," Corvus whispered in Joanne's ear.

As the first student was called to step forward, Professor Joules handed her a bow and a silver arrow that he seemed to have materialized from nothing.

Following his instructions, the girl pointed the arrow to the ceiling with shaky hands and released it. Upon reaching the ceiling, the arrow dissolved into a shower of purple sparks.

The tables on the left of the french doors erupted in applause.

"Papillonlisse. Please, make your way towards your new house, young madame." Professor Joules said as he indicated the excited tables to her.

Harry's name was called next. He was handed the same wooden bow and a new arrow. Without waiting for further encouragement, Harry released the arrow into the ceiling. The blue sparks that followed indicated his sorting into Ombrelune.

The group of tables nearest to the center of the room started applauding with a sustained dignity.

As Harry approached them, one of the older students waved him over to her table, where there were a couple of empty seats. Harry smiled gratefully as he sat down.

"Bienvenue" she whispered and then they both turned their attention to the rest of the sorting.

Joanne was sorted into Bellefeuille shortly after him, as predicted.

Another girl joined Ombrelune and sat next to Harry.

Among the last few to be sorted was Corvus, who ended up in Papillonlisse.

Harry sighed, realising that all three of them had been sorted in different houses. He knew that it wouldn't be a problem keeping up with Joanne, they had been friends since they were toddlers. He didn't want to lose their budding friendship with Corvus, though. Harry rarely clicked with someone his own age so fast and he also couldn't help but see him as family. He hoped that they would continue interacting in their classes.

As the sorting ended, the Headmistress stood up with a smile as sweet as honey.

"Thank you, Professor Joules, and welcome to Beauxbaton Palace, new and returning students. Before we enjoy the wonderful meals prepared by our elves tonight, I have a few words to share with you. As you are aware, it is our first year welcoming muggle students in our school. We have prepared the curriculum carefully and thoughtfully to cater to every student. However, I expect of the older students to always be open and offer a helping hand to our youngest ones, whether they are muggle, witch, or wizard. I also expect complete respect in all regards. We are trying to start building a new future where we can all live harmoniously. This is heavily dependent on you, as the first involved generation in this revolution. Study hard and be good to each other, and let's show the rest of the world that coexistence is to be celebrated, not feared."

She raised her crystal cup in toast, which every single student and professor replicated. Harry's heart was beating with excitement. He felt inspired by her words and truly grateful to be reborn in this time. He wanted a normal life, and he was willing to do whatever it took to have one in a world where everyone could live without hiding.

As the food appeared on the tables, a gust of wind blew the french doors open, carrying a myriad of colors inside the Dining Chambers. The colors spread everywhere around the tables and when they got close enough, Harry realized they were flower petals.

A slow breeze carrying red and white petals blew through Harry's hair and, with a start, he heard the petals sing.

"They are Wood Nymphs," the older girl sitting next to him said.

"They really enjoy participating in our big celebrations. Sharing their songs is what makes them happiest. If you listen closely, you can make out words. Their ballads are tales of mystical creatures and heroic wizards and witches."

"You missed out on not being sorted to Bellefeuille, Ivone," chuckled the boy sitting in front of Harry. Noticing he'd gotten Harry's and the other first year girl's attention, he pointed at the Bellefeuille tables "Look how many Nymphs are hovering over there. Clear favoritism, if you ask me."

Harry noticed that indeed there was a greater concentration of petals in that area. Joanne's eyes were closed in concentration as several sets of petals were gently blowing around her.

"It's because they know who listens to them the most, and they like for their songs to be listened. It's why they come to our celebrations in the first place," the girl called Ivone said with a roll of her eyes.

"Nice to meet you, firsties, I'm Ivone Bijoux, a sixth year student."

"Emilio Borini, but please call me Harry."

"Christine D'Angè" said the other girl with a small voice.

"Sebastian Perez, sixth year and head of the boys' dormitory," the boy who had spoken earlier winked at them.

There were three other students sitting with them, but they simply nodded without bothering to introduce themselves.

"These are my friends, previously known as Richard, Andre, and Michelle. They are seven years specializing in Necromancy. It is a very serious commitment on their part. They have renounced their names and their voice in order to gain the closest affinity with the astral plane as they can. Once they complete their studies, they will renounce contact with the living and retreat into solitude to achieve their full potential," Sebastian explained, his voice filled with respect.

"That is a great sacrifice. Is it really worth leaving everything and everyone behind?" a small voice murmured and the table's occupants turned their attention towards Christine.

As she blushed furiously under their gaze, Sebastian shook his head.

"They are part of Ombrelune for a reason. There is no obstacle we are unwilling to face to achieve our goals."

Somehow, Christine managed to shyly speak again, "Aren't you going to miss your friends?"

With steely eyes, Sebastian replied solemnly, "As their friend, I am very proud of them."

Harry couldn't help but notice Ivone quickly hiding a tear that had rolled down her cheek. He hadn't been the only one to notice, aparently, as the boy previously known as Andre sadly took in her discreet grief.

Harry suddenly had a new flashback. A man with a long white beard and eccentric clothing looking at him in a grandfatherly way.

 _Love is the greatest power of all._

 _Albus._

Harry was convinced then that the silent students were making a mistake. There was no power worth the sacrifice of love.

 **Notes:**

 **Hey there! it's been a while, but I've kept myself busy.**

 **For starters, I got myself some betas. This chapter wouldn't be the same without samalmightyx, Mizuki 23, and NikkiCross. Thank you all for your insightful feedback!**

 **Also, as you might have noticed, I changed the summary, since the previous one was pertaining more to the prologue as a one-shot rather than the current direction this is taking.**

 **In addition to that, I've been getting started with a new project and I'm very excited to share it soon! Hope you will all love it as much as I do!**

 **Lastly, I'd like to address one of the reviews that was left on the previous chapter. I found it to be hurtful and ignorant towards members of the LGBTQ community and I do not, by any means, agree with it at all. However, I chose to not remove it, because I strongly believe that everyone is entitled to express their opinion, regardless of my feelings on the topic.**

 **I hope that my decision hasn"t resulted in any of the readers getting terribly upset at reading the review, because the thought of other people reading it and their feelings getting hurt was what I found to be most upsetting. Please know that there is nothing wrong with who you are, who you like and how you like them as long as there is consent. Don't let the misguided opinions of ignorant people get to you.**

 **Feel free to review in earnest, I won't delete any of it, but please, when you do, keep in consideration how your words may affect other human beings.**

 **Sorry for the long spiel and thank you for reading!**


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